


Recordings

by Leticheecopae



Series: Lodge Alternia [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Captivity, Demonstuck, Forced sibling incest, Horror, M/M, Sibling Incest, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 19:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2161653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leticheecopae/pseuds/Leticheecopae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lodge Alternia is just the story Eridan needs to break out into the reporting and journalism world. It has death, mystery, and no one else is willing to touch it. He's not afraid though, not at all. Eridan is going to figure out what is going on at the lodge, and how it has ruined so many lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ...this was supposed to be a one shot...whoops.
> 
> Don't expect as much smut this time around, but I hope y'all still enjoy!
> 
> Thanks to Vollerei for helping me beta yet again!

“God damn it,” Cronus growls as he tries to pull his foot up. The ground underneath is soaked through with the partially melted layer of snow. It gives a went crunch with each step, followed by a slick sucking sound as his boots are suctioned to the ground.

“I told you not to wear those shoes,” Eridan says flippantly, as he tromps next to his brother, designer snow boots staying mostly on top of the melting ice and snow. Even when they did sink in, they didn’t stay long.

“It was better than blowing two hundred on something you’re going to use maybe three times in your life,” Cronus replies. There is a harsh sucking sound, and he lets out another swear as his foot comes up nothing but sock. “Son of a whore.” Cronus totters with the equipment on his shoulder while trying to get his foot back into his leather riding boots.

“I’d rather drop a pretty penny than losing my favorite pair in the snow,” Eridan replies as he watches his brother miss the boot opening a few times before shoving his foot back into the hole.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. How far are we?” Cronus leans down to pull up the ankle to his boot as he looks out into the forest. They had been able to see the house from the road, but that had been a few miles back. The place had been condemned after the Strider brothers had been found almost dead inside the building. The mountain patrol had been cracking down, keeping everyone out, especially nosey journalists looking to boost their careers with quick stories of inflated speculation.

“I’m not sure,” Eridan replies as he squints through the trees, adjusts his glasses against the gloom, and shifts the pack on his back that holds their clothes and supplies. It’s midday, and that doesn’t leave much light left in the mountains in the middle of March. “It can’t be far though, with a roof like that, Lodge Alternia can’t be hard to spot.” Eridan starts to move again, heading in the direction he had deemed the correct direction.

“Yeah, if you’re a squirrel,” Cronus grumbles as he stands. A cold wind blows, and Cronus shivers in his leather jacket. The sweat he had been developing from lugging the camera equipment starting to chill. Looking back over his shoulder, he watches their twin tracks disappearing back into the woods. He wants to follow them back to the car, climb back inside, and go to one of the ski slopes. There wouldn’t be many snow bunnies around, not with the strangely warm March they were having up in the mountains.

“Cronus, did you get stuck?” Eridan calls.

“I’m comin, I’m comin,” Cronus calls back and follows Eridan’s footprints into the forest.

With Cronus’s confirmation, Eridan continues deeper into the woods. He is going to find this cabin, there is no question about it, even if they have to scour the whole damn mountain. “Don’t drop the camera,” he calls back. “I’ll cut your pay if you do.”

“You don’t even pay me!” Cronus yells in reply.

“I might as well,” Eridan murmurs. “It’s my stories that payed for that damn camera.” He’s nervous about being on camera for his first time, but he has to start somewhere. Why not with this story? He has already published a series of journal articles about the horrible happenings at Lodge Alternia. The murders of John Egbert and Jake English, the death of Mr. Egbert not long after, a multitude of unexplainable deaths and sicknesses, and the most recent happenings with the Strider brothers. He hadn’t been able to keep the incest thread going through his stories, though. Their cousins, two bitches with the last name of Lalonde, had put a rest to that idea. Had even made him run an apology article, though it was in his favor. People always liked those who could admit they were wrong, and Eridan had provided quite the apologetic soliloquy. 

All he needs now is to find the cabin, and he can finish his epic tale. He even looked up how much it was for breaking and entering if caught, and he found he could probably pay his way out of it. At least, with the help of his dad, if he could get ahold of his dad.

“Would you wait up!?” Cronus is annoyed, that’s easy enough to hear, but Eridan doesn’t rightly care. He had warned him about snow. Even when they were younger, Cronus had only ever stayed inside the lodges they had gone to, and schmoozed with everyone he could. At least Eridan had tried the slopes. He prefered skis to snowboards, of course. Who would want to do something so classless as snowboarding?

“Oh, stop your whining,” Eridan yells over his shoulder as he comes around a line of pine trees. He comes to a halt when he turns and finds what he has been looking for. The lodge sits in half shadow from the surrounding trees, the sunlight making the peaks of the roof into knife blades.

“Finally, do you have any idea how heavy this damn thing is?” Cronus asks as he huffs up to his brother. He is holding the camera case with two hands.

“You’re the one who wanted it,” Eridan replies without looking. He takes a few steps towards the house before whirling around. “Now put it to use.” Eridan moves his pack to fully sit on his shoulders, the weight seeming far away, now that they are here.

“Would you at least let me catch my breath?” Cronus asks as he leans against a tree.

“You’re the one who enjoys smoking more than breathing,” Eridan replies. “Now do your job, or I’ll take that thing back.” He pats at his auburn hair and straightens the violet streak he had just re-dyed. Unlike his brothers black hair. Eridan can see his roots through the bottle black. Why he would cover up their hair color with the inky black is beyond him.

Cronus lets out a groan. God damn it. Why did he have to be the starving artist of the family. “Fine, fine.” He’s not about to give up the camera. The mic on the thing is perfect for his outdoor gigs. Or it will be. After this stupid escapade is over, and Eridan get’s his swelled head, he’s promised to write his older brother a review. Either that, or get someone else to. Last thing Cronus wants is his brother to write something that sounds bias.

It takes him a few minutes to get the camera out while Eridan looks at the building in front of him. A tower-like structure towers over the house, and the sun glints over a large circular window. It’s some sort of stained glass with bright blues and greens. The melting snow has cleaned the outside of it to almost pristine. 

“We have to get a shot up there,” Erdian breathes as he takes a few steps forwards. 

“What?” Cronus asks as he lifts his camera to his shoulder. God, he wants a cig.

“Nevermind, are you ready?” Eridan asks excitedly.

Cronus looks through the camera and adjusts the focus. “Yeah okay, we’re good.”

Eridan gives Cronus a glare.

“I mean...you’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” Cronus says as he shifts his weight a little under the camera weight. Eridan just stares at him, arms crossed. “Fuck, fine. Five, four, three-” he mouths the last two words while doing the two and one with his fingers. By the time he reaches zero Eridan is relaxed in front of the camera.

“Hello loyal readers, Eridan Ampora here, and I am standing in front of Lodge Alternia.” He takes a few steps back. “For those who have read my articles, you know the deadly history behind this house that started with the murder of the two cousins, John and Jake.” Eridan opens his arms wide. “They were found here in these very woods. John had been shot with Jakes gun, and Jake had been bludgeoned to death, though it was proven that the two boys hadn’t done the actions to one another. John’s father was found dead only a few days later, body eviscerated by whom the police assumed to be the boys killer.” Eridan looks up at the house, then back at the camera. “The house has gone through multiple owners since then. Over the last century, dozens have fallen to inexplicable sickness here, accidental deaths, and the most recent victims were the two Strider brothers, Dirk and Dave.” 

Cronus follows Eridan as he walks backwards towards the house, doing his best to keep the camera steady. “I’ve come here to see just what these wood walls hide, and find out just what drove Dirk and Dave to bloodshed after their almost deadly visit. With my brother and cameraman, Cronus Ampora, we will stay in this house until we learn the truth. We will not rest unti-”

Eridan’s face drops a second before he does. Falling backwards, he lands butt first into the ice and mud, his coat doing little to cover his backside. Cronus goes to his knees laughing. 

“God damn it,” Eridan snarls as he pulls himself out of the snow. “I was doing so well!”

“Yeah, great,” Cronus sobs out as he gets up and wipes tears from his eyes with his free hand. “Oh my god, can we please do a blooper real? People love a blooper real.” He keeps laughing, coughs coming now and again.

“Shut up tar lung,” Eridan snaps. “Lets get inside, I need to change.”

Cronus takes a gasping breath and a harsh cough as he puts the camera away. “Fucking thin air,” he gasps. “I hate the mountains.”

Eridan stomps towards the house as Cronus puts his camera away. He slips a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket. Fucking brat of a brother wouldn’t let him smoke in the car, and he can’t wait any longer. He lights it quick, takes a drag, and breathes out slow. Through the smoke, he looks at the house, and catches a glimpse of movement. Blowing the rest of the smoke to the side, he stares up at a stained glass window. It gently sways above the house, almost like it is waving. Cronus watches it a bit longer as he takes another deep drag, and blows the smoke towards the house. 

A harsh wind blows it back in his face, the gale harsh in his ears.

“Son of a bitch,” he hisses as smoke burns his eyes and contacts. The world goes swimmy as he blinks up at the window. There is movement, a flash of something pale that wraps around the lip of the window, and pulls it shut. Cronus reaches up to move the contact in his eye back in place. The window is closed. When he breathes in, it comes easy.

“Fuck this wind,” Eridan calls. “It’s going to ruin my hair.” He lifts his hand to try and flatten the reddish strands. Another gust of wind blasts them, and it is surprisingly warm and hair-raisingly loud. Eridan freezes.

“D-did you hear something?” Eridan calls as he stands at the foot of the stairs to the porch. He looks back to find Cronus rubbing at his eyes, cigarette at his feet.

“Huh,” Cronus asks back as he look up and blinks at Eridan in confusion. Even from the porch Eridan can tell his eyes are red.

“Nevermind,” Eridan replies and turns towards what he thinks is the back door. There are still remnants of police tape on the porch. “Let’s just get inside. My ass is freezing.” He climbs up the stairs, grabs the knob, and turns. At least he tries.

“Damn it,” he growls as he shakes the door. Locked; how could he not have seen this coming? Well, actually he had, he just didn’t want to have to break a window. At least he can make that look like someone else did it, especially with how bad the winter had been, before the sudden winter heat wave. Old glass breaks. Hell, there could already be a broken window. 

Eridan walks down the porch. “See if you can find a strong bra-”

The crunch of wood makes him whip around. Cronus is standing in front of the door, foot still halfway up. He slowly lowers it to the ground as he takes a drag on his cigarette. 

“Fuck that,” Cronus says with a grin. Smoke spills through his teeth, and Eridan cringes. God he hates smoke.

“Are you insane!” he shrieks. 

Cronus just shrugs and takes another drag as he holds the camera bag on his shoulder. “You wanted in.” 

Eridan glares at Cronus as he pushes past him into the house. “Wood must have been rotted,” he mutters. He feels smoke on the back of his neck, and turns to swat at Cronus.

Cronus takes the small smacks and smiles. On the next drag, Cronus sucks the smoke down, and pushes it out easily in Eridan’s face. Erdian gags.

Cronus takes it back. Maybe the mountains aren’t that bad. Thin air is one hell of a high.

\----  
By the time Eridan manages to get out of his wet clothes, the sun has gone down behind the trees. Instead of his boots and went jeans, he’s in comfortable Chukka boots and fresh skinny jeans that may or may not be lined with some soft material that makes him feel like he’s got kittens wrapped around his legs. He’s in his best sweater, scarf, and his hair is so gelled not even a hurricane could ruin it. Take that, pesky mountain winds.

Cronus, in the mean time, has made the living room smell like a tobacco lounge. He feels like he could smoke a whole field of tobacco his lungs are so open.

“Those things are going to kill you someday,” Eridan says as he walks into the livingroom, and waves the smoke from his face.

“Probably,” Cronus replies and blows out another puff of smoke. He’s still in the same jeans, boots, white longsleeve shirt and biker jacket. He smells a bit from the hike, but it’s covered mostly by the smoky smell. 

“Well, could you put your impending death on hold and pick up that camera? I want to get some shots upstairs, before we lose the sun.” Eridan crosses his arms and slightly juts out a hip. He had learned it from his third step mother. People had called the stance feminine, he called it powerful. She had been the only woman to bring his father to his knees, and the only one to tell Mr. Ampora that they were getting a divorce. The Ampora’s hadn’t been able to afford the trip to Maui that year. Instead, Eridan’s step sisters had sent him a postcard.

“Yeah, fine,” Cronus replies and flicks his cigarette into the crackling fireplace. He picks up the camera that is sitting on the floor, and hefts it to his shoulder.

Eridan rolls his eyes as he walks towards the stairs. “Come on, and roll the camera. Just don’t, talk.” 

“Whatever, Chief,” Cronus replies and flicks on the camera. He follows his little brother up the stairs, panning the camera over the landing as they walk. It’s hard to keep the camera still and look at the stairs at the same time, but he manages the first and second flights of stairs, before pausing with Eridan at the bottom of the third flight of stairs. 

“D-damn,” Eridan says as he looks at the dark stairwell. He’s shivering in the dim light of the house. “Missed it.”

Cronus snorts. “We can still get some shots ya know, this thing does have a light on it.” He’s shivering a bit as well, but his jacket has a better lining than the thin sweater Eridan has on. “Or are you starting to believe in all that shit you write?”

Eridan ruffles a little. “That’s ridiculous. I just don’t want to go up there blind.” With how dark the house is getting, they might as well be. “You saw that window banging away up there. What if the window broke? There could be glass all ov-”

They both jump as something does bang. Both stare at the doorway, and it is just open enough that they can see some sort of change in light. Another bang, and the light goes out for a moment, only for it to come back with the barest of squeaking sounds.

Cronus looks at Eridan and swallows. His chest doesn’t feel so good anymore. “Come on,” he says, and his throat feels thick. “Lets get your damn shot while there’s still some sun.”

“Wait, Cronus,” Eridan says as his brother walks through the door. “I don’t think that’s sunlight.”

Cronus gives a little snicker, even though his body feels tense. “Then what is it? The moon?” The banging continues.

“Well no, but-. Cronus I mean it, get back here,” Eridan hisses. Cronus ignores him. “Damn it,” Eridan whispers. He takes the stairs two at a time to catch up with his brother.

“Now who can’t breathe?” he chuckles as Eridan pants next to him.

“S-shut up,” Eridan snips back. He shivers as wind blows over him. “It’s freezing up here.”

“No shit,” Cronus replies. Icicles throw odd shadow patterns over the walls when the window opens. 

The banging makes their hair stand on edge, and they both turn to the window. Light filters in as it swings open, and is shut out when it slams shut. It doesn’t look quite right, as if it is too concentrated.

“Turn the camera on,” Eridan whispers.

“What, why?” Cronus asks.

“Do it.” It comes out as a hiss. If there is something going on, then he is going to get it on camera. He’s shaking as he dodges around mounds of papers and book, doing his best not to knock anything over as he goes towards the window. Cronus is right behind him, footfalls heavy in his biker boots.

Cronus’ chest feels tighter the closer they get the the window, more and more like it had been when they had been climbing the mountain. He doesn’t like it. They should go back downstairs and sit on the couch. Maybe go to sleep, dream a little. Cronus thinks he’d have good dreams in this house. 

“What the hell?” 

Cronus feels his brain focus on what’s happening at Eridan’s trembling words. “What?” he asks as he walks up next to him. Eridan points at the window.

For a moment, neither of them are sure about what they are seeing. There is light coming through the window, but it is definitely not sunlight. Outside, hanging from the roof by a wrist strap, a flashlight is dangling. Everytime the window opens and closes it lets in the light, and then cuts it off. 

“The hell?” Cronus asks, and his chest is really starting to ache. He coughs a little, spits, and wipes his mouth on his sleeve. 

“W-where did that come from?” Eridan asks as he inches towards the window.

“I don’t know, but fuck if I want to fi-”

A hot wind shoots through the window, sending the flashlight dancing. Eridan stumbles back while Cronus finds himself wheezing. Cronus goes to the floor and coughs hard as Eridan runs into a box and trips over it. It tips over, spilling its contents over the floor, and Eridan goes down with it. The room goes dark.

“Cronus!” Eridan yells, “Cronus!” He can’t feel his glasses on his face.

“Here, I’m here, Chief,” Cronus coughs back. “Jesus, one sec.” Cronus’ hands move in jolting patterns over the camera. 

“Cronus,” Eridan whines. Something in the room shatters, and he lurches towards his brother’s raspy breathing. Items scatter under his hands and knees, and he runs into a table.

“Got it,” Cronus says, and blindingly white light erupts from the end of the camera. They both hiss as they cover their eyes. “Damn,” Cronus says. “They weren’t kidding about the wattage on this thing.”

“Fuck the wattage, help me find my glasses. We need to get out of here.” Eridan squints through the multiple shadows the light casts, and tries to make sense of the blob like shapes he’s seeing. Are those them?

“Here they are,” Cronus says just as Eridan grabs what he thinks are his. “No wait, these?”

Eridan turns to find Cronus kneeling nearby in the scattered junk with something in each hand. He looks down at his own hand to find that he is indeed holding glasses, but they aren’t his. “What the?” Eridan holds them close to his face, but they stay a dark blob.

He jumps as something crashes again, and he skitters over to Cronus. His brother hands him something, and Eridan is happy to find they are indeed his glasses. Eridan isn’t happy to see what else Cronus is holding. 

“Sunglasses?” Cronus says before Eridan can say it. He holds them up to show them to his brother. They are round and whole, but there is something flecked and dried on them. 

Eridan looks down at the sunglasses he’s holding. He is holding sharp looking shades that look somewhat cracked and fractured in the light of the camera. Swallowing, he looks down at the floor around him. There are knick-knacks all around him, old photos, a knife, a hammer, some old newspaper clippings, a gun barrel, and a torn piece of paper that looks fresh. He reaches for it with a shaking hand.

 _Houston Chronicle. Not Brotherly Love. By Eridan Ampora_ is as far as he gets before he drops the paper and jerks towards Cronus. “We have to leave.”

“What?” Cronus asks. No shit they have to leave, his god damn chest feels like it’s closing up. He can barely breathe.

“Someone is here,” Eridan grits out. There are more small crashes. Eridan watches a few icicles hit the floor and shatter like glass.

“Who-”

“Look!” He shoves the article into Cronus’s hands. “Someone is setting us up. Some sick fuck has rigged the place. We need to get out of here. We need to-”

“Run?”

Both brothers jerk at the introduction of a new voice. Eridan turns and expects someone from the writing business. Maybe that Captor bastard from tech services. He could pull some shit like this. That’s not who’s in the room with them.

Next to the window, a young man is standing. His has dark hair, is wearing old fashioned clothing, and his eyes seem much too bright even in the blinding light. He doesn’t blink while he speaks, and something is very wrong with his teeth. “Oh, that’s so rude. We haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. Isn’t that rude, John?”

“Very,” another voice adds. This time they look back towards the stairs. Another boy is there, similar in face to the one by the window, but taller, and with brilliant blue eyes. “I mean look at them, Jake, taking things that don’t belong to them.” John looks down at Eridan’s clenched hand, and takes a step forwards.

“Jo-Ja-” Eridan’t can’t finish a full sentence. He looks at Cronus with wide eyes, and from the matching look Cronus is giving, Eridan knows they are thinking something similar. John and Jake, the murdered boys, and here they are. It makes their bowels clench and stomachs churn.

“You really shouldn’t touch things that don’t belong to you,” Jake adds as he takes a step of his own. Eridan’s head whips around to look at him, and for a moment he feels like he can’t move. Cronus can’t breathe as he stares at blue eyes.

The hammer flies and hits Jake right in the temple, sending him into a stagger. For a moment Eridan sees more blood and bone than he should. 

“God damn it, John, keep your little brat under control,” Jake hisses, and his eyeball is still in his skull when he looks up.

“Da-” John starts to say before the window opens wide and hot air rushes past them. ‘Run’ echoes in the Ampora’s ears as John goes flying against the wall. 

Eridan lurches up without thinking and grabs Cronus’ shoulder. “Come on,” he cries as cold air rushes past him and something else flies past his head. 

Cronus jerks upwards as well, one hand clutching the shades while the other grips the camera. His chest still feels tight as he follows Eridan, knocking over tables and boxes as he goes. An icicle slices against his cheek for a brief second as they pass what looks like a whirlwind next to the stairs. He ignores it, and follows Eridan down the stairs.

“Dirk!” They hear from the attic, a roar over the wind, and it makes Eridan’s hair stand on end. 

“Move!” he yells as he rushes for the next flight of stairs, a death grip on the glasses in his hands and his brothers sleeve. He pulls Cronus down towards the landing. They both stumble on seemingly nothing as they turn the corner, and their momentum makes them hit hard. They hit hard, and the camera skitters from Cronus’ hand. 

They both keep a tight grip on the shades. Something very clearly tells them that they need them. Cronus scrambles for the camera, grabbing it up. He shoves the glasses in his coat pocket while Eridan scrambles upwards. He gets up before Cronus, rushing back to the fork as his brother gets up. 

“I’m fine,” Cronus croaks as he gets up, camera in hand. “Let’s go-” 

Eridan lets out a scream as Cronus is jerked backwards into the room behind him, and the door slams shut. “Cronus!” he yells. “Cronus!” He rushes to the door, banging at it with his free fist as he tries to open the door with the one holding the sharp shades. “Cro-” The hand around his neck makes him freeze.

“Jake would like to talk to you.” The voice is bland, empty. Eridan is turned with one hand while the other stays tight on his throat. He finds himself faced with the thinnest rings of amber irises looking through the dark at him. He’s seen that color, but only in photographs. They had been pulled off the facebook page of a boy who is supposed to be dead.

“Dirk?” He chokes out. 

Green eyes appear over Dirk’s shoulder, almost cartoonish with how they glow in the dark. The eyes of the beast at the bottom of the stairs waiting for the victim to fall. “And with that, Eridan,” Jake says as he snakes one arm around Dirk’s waist, and the other reaches up to caress Eridan’s face. “Introductions are finished.”

Eridan shudders at the cold hand on his cheek. He wants to jerk away, but the hand around his throat is too tight. 

“I must say, you have such lovely eyes.” A finger skims under his glasses, and for a brief moment he feels like that finger is going to gouge it right out of his head. He can almost feel it hanging from his socket with its jelly like insides dripping down his cheek. “It’s too bad you have to close them to sleep.”

Sleep?

Eridan barely forms the question in his mind before the world goes dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving and having to deal with seasonal insanity. Please enjoy the chapter!

Cronus’ back hits the floor hard, and he skids across the old boards. For a moment, he is completely stunned as he stares up at the ceiling. There is a cold light dancing on the cracked plaster, and as he watches the blue flickerings, he realizes he’s not breathing.

The first gasp is painful as he rolls to his side and coughs. Rattlings gasps of breath fill his lungs, and he feels like he hasn’t been breathing for ages. It hurts, especially when he breathes out, his lungs feeling vice like and raw. Slowly, he makes his way to his hands and knees, then his feet, and finally leans heavily against the bedpost as he drinks in cold air. His camera is by the door, light shining against the wall, and it makes a plate sized bright spot.

“Eridan?” he croaks towards the door. It makes him cough again. “Eridan, are you okay?” A few shaky steps take him towards the door before he hears a chuckle. Cronus freezes. 

“Oh, he’s not out there anymore,” the voice says. “He’s gone off to play with Jake and Dirk.” Cool hands find their way under Cronus’s shirt and he shudders. “Will you play with me?” The voice asks in his ear, and Cronus spins away. His hand goes into his pants and comes out quickly. The sound of the switchblade unsheathing is loud in his ears as the room goes quiet. 

“Where’s my brother?” Cronus asks as he sways a little on his feet. He needs to get Eridan, and then get them out. If he can, fuck, he barely feels like he can move as he turns in a slow circle. When he finally stops he is facing the center of the room. There is no one with him. 

“Well doesn’t that look like fun,” Cronus hears in his ear again. He swings fast and quick to his side, and he feels a moment of contact with the tip of the blade before his hand is grabbed. “Looks like you know how to use it as well.” The blue eyed boy, John, is standing in front of Cronus with a large, dangerous smile that makes his lungs squeeze tight. The blue eyes seem to glow in the cold light in the room, and Cronus finds himself unable to look away.

“Come on, Cronus, keep going.” John says as he pulses his grip on Cronus’s wrist. “I want to see how you wield a blade. See how strong your thrust is.” He is grinning, giggling, like the blade just barely pushed against the base of his ribs is a joke. Cronus doesn’t know how to react. He’s frozen, the tip of the blade trembling slightly against John’s flesh. 

John’s face falls into a pout. “What, too scared?” His hand presses Cronus’s fist forwards, the point of the knife just barely sinking in. “What kind of big brother freezes at the last second?” 

Something ripples inside Cronus as a snarl crosses his face. “Fuck you,” Cronus manages as he feels a mixture of anger and fear rush through him. How dare this...thing say stuff like that. Fuck him for assume that Cronus can’t defend his sibling. Cronus has been in fights, quite a few, and he has the scars under his ribs and over his eye to prove it. Now all he has to do is prove it to this bastard.

Cronus’s hand steadies and pushes into John’s chest as his other hand comes up and grabs John by the back of the neck. He thrusts forwards hard, and Cronus can feel the blade slide in slick as he pulls John’s body to him. Cronus sneers a smile as he hears a grunt of surprise. He pulls John in closer, feeling the hilt of his knife shoving right against the flesh, and forces the skin to indent as he grips the hair at the base of John’s neck hard.

“How’s that, you fuck,” he grits into John’s ear as he turns the blade. The steel has a small section taken out of the center, keeping it from being suctioned into the body, and it lets the blood flow down over Cronus’s hand. He’s felt blood on his hands before, but nothing like this. It’s cool and sticky, as if it’s already coagulated. He tries to pull back, but John grabs him and tugs him forwards. The knife sinks in a bit further, making a deep indent into his skin, and John lets out a groan like nothing Cronus has ever heard. 

“Yes,” he says into Cronus’s ear, and the word makes his hair stand on end. No one should make a sound like that with a knife in their gut. “Straight for a death kill,” he adds with blood slicked words. Cronus can feel it dribbling from John’s mouth and onto his shoulder. “You don’t play.” John pulls his body away for a moment, hands shaking on Cronus’s forearms, and then slams himself back into Cronus. He lets out another groan, right in Cronus’s ear, and licks at the shell of it. One of John’s hands dip down to push at Cronus’s hips, and Cronus can’t shove him away fast enough. The knife hits the floor with a dull thud.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Cronus’s voice is airy, his lungs feeling tight again as John stands with blood oozing from his mouth and torso.

John smiles and takes a step towards him. “Oh, so many things,” he says as he keeps moving forwards. His body looks languid and loose, showing no signs of pain at all. “And I’d love to show you them all. With the way you play, I’m sure you’d enjoy them.”

Cronus slowly moves back as John moves forwards. The blood is still flowing, running over his lips as he talks, and Cronus’s knees feel like they’ll give out. With a blink, Cronus finds that the room is empty again. He whips himself around a few times before the hands are back, pushing up under his jacket. 

“Why don’t you let me have this?” John asks as he goes to take the jacket off. “Would hate to tear such pretty leather.” Cronus feels one of the hands start to dip into his pocket and pulls away as quickly as he can.

“Oh, come on now,” John pouts. Cronus stumbles away from him, his eyes locked on him. They start to go wide as cuts slowly start to open over John’s face. “You can’t tell me you don’t want to add your own marks.” 

Cronus does his best to breathe through his fear as he watches each cut and mark appear. His hand comes up and pats at his chest. Beneath his hand he can feel the shades he had grabbed upstairs. Cronus pulls them out, and watches John’s eyes go straight to them. He holds them out. “Y-you want these?” he pants as John gets closer, eyes locked onto the frames. It’s getting harder to breathe. Outside a harsh wind rattles the windows. 

John’s clothing rips on its own accord, and his chest is nothing but a sunken hole beneath the tattered cloth. “Give them back,” is what he says in response. “And I’ll give you pleasure with only the slightest tinge of excruciating ecstasy.” 

_‘Don’t do it,’_ something says behind him. Cronus finds his back against the window, and it feels warm as it shudders from the wind. _‘Let me in.’_

“Tell me why they’re so important,” Cronus says as he wraps his hand around them, acting as if he might crush them. John freezes. With his free hand, Cronus feels along the frame of the window behind him, pushes at the wood as he tries to find a way to open it. He keeps his other hand outstretched, fingers wrapped tight around the frames. The window behind him shudders.

“Now don’t be hasty,” John murmurs. “They belong to someone dear to me,” he adds. The amusement in his voice is all but gone. “And now I want them back.” Cronus’s lungs feel even tighter. It’s getting harder to breathe, his chest heaving as he tries to pull the window up without turning around.

“Yeah, well I want my brother,” Cronus wheezes. “Give him back, and maybe I’ll give you your shitty shades back.”

John crosses his arms over the hole in his chest, and gives Cronus a glare that makes him want to shake. “He’s not mine to give back.” His voice is harsh. “You’ll have to trade Jake for him. Though I’d be more worried about yourself,” John continues. “Seeing as I’m the one who likes to be a bit,” he pauses before giving a very scary smirk. “Rough.”

Cronus doesn’t like how he says that, and his searching hand grabs at the window. He finds some sort of latch. John’s eyes move to look at his hand. “What are you doing?” His eyes cut up and look at Cronus, and the pupils are sharp. “You can’t get out of here, I won’t let you.”

_‘Pull you idiot.’_

“I’m not trying to get out,” he gasps before turning and grabbing the sash of the window with both hands. With a grunt, he pushes up hard as John lets out some sort of shriek. Hot air hits Cronus hard enough to make him stumble. Behind him there is a roar of anger as wind whips through the room.

“Miss me honey?” he hears, and it’s the same voice that was outside. “Because I sure as fuck have missed you.”

John lets out a cry of pain, and Cronus turns to find a blonde haired boy with a sword shoved through John’s lower body. It isn’t high enough to be his gut, closer to his groin, and John is scrambling to pull it out. “D-Dave, you piece of shit let me-”

“Ah-ah honey,” Dave says. “That’s not how you talk to you afterlife partner, is it?” Dave’s hand comes up, and there is another blade in it. It has a wicked curve to it, and it flashes bright for a moment as Dave grabs one of John’s hands and pins it to the wall. The knife slides into the flesh of John’s wrist and deep into the wood, pinning the hand.

“Little help here?” Dave asks over the cry that explodes from John’s mouth. He flicks horrifyingly bright red eyes at the switchblade on the floor. It takes Cronus a moment, but after the initial fear flickers through him he quickly runs to snatch it up. Dave already has John’s other hand up against the wall and ready for Cronus to pin. Cronus doesn’t hesitate before he shoves his knife hard, not stopping until he feels it dig into the old wood.

John lets out another cry of pain before he looks between Cronus and Dave. “I’ll tear you apart,” he snarls. “Tear you apart and fuck the holes.”

“We’ve already done that,” Dave replies blandly. “I thought you would be a little more creative at this.”

“You annoying piece of shit,” John snarls as he tries to tug his hands forwards, body jerking. “I should have let Jake take your mind. Made you a fucking lap dog,” John spits, red foam gathering in the corners of his mouth.

“Aw, then we wouldn’t have so much fun,” Dave replies and pats at John’s cheek. John bites at his hand, but Dave doesn’t even react to the small nips that catch his fingers. 

Cronus watches the interaction with morbid amusement and fear as Dave gets closer to John.

“I’ll-” John starts, but Dave’s mouth is quickly there to shut him up. Cronus feels his stomach churn as blood suddenly gushes from John’s mouth, and a muffled cry of pain fills the room. Dave pulls back with a jerk of his head, and Dave stands with a bloody tongue hanging from his mouth. He spits it out as John lets out unrecognizable sounds of pain. Cronus feels dizzy for a moment before he stumbles to the side and empties his stomach onto the old wood floor. When he finally turns, he finds Dave shoving it back into John’s mouth, far back into his mouth, and Cronus realizes he’s forcing him to choke on his own tongue.

“God I’ve been wanting to shut him up for a while,” Dave says with an almost happy sigh as he stands covered in blackened blood. John makes a semblance of a word that Dave ignores as he wipes the blood off his mouth with the back of his hand and turns to Cronus. 

“W-what do you want?” Cronus asks as he shuffles backwards along the wall. Dave raises an eyebrow, as if the answer should be obvious. 

“To get you and your brother the fuck out of here,” Dave replies. “Speaking of which, you two are the thickest pieces of shit I’ve ever met. All the other dumb fucks who came up here that got a face full of wind turned tail and left.”

“Yeah well,” Cronus croaks. He swallows down bile before trying to talk again. “We weren’t exactly expectin anythin like this. If we’d had any idea what was going on in this hell house I would have dragged that little prick down the mountain myself.” 

“Says the guy who kicked down the door after John gave you a lung full of air,” Dave replies as he crosses his arms. Behind him, John writhes against the wall, and Cronus watches as a red line appears on Dave’s neck. 

“Lung full of air? Wh-”

“I don’t have time to fucking explain shit to you,” Dave suddenly snaps. “I can only keep this fucker trapped for so long. It’s easier since you have my glasses, but I can’t keep him for long. So listen, and fucking do what I say, or you and I are going to end up getting to know each other in ways you’ve probably only seen in snuff films.”

Cronus tries to snap something back, but Dave gives him a glare that makes him shrink back. Those red eyes mixed with a mouth smeared with blackened blood is just too damn freaky to fuck with. He’s going to have to listen. “Where’s Eridan?” he asks instead, and his lungs still hurt, but not nearly as bad. 

“He’s with Jake and my brother,” Dave replies. The red mark on his neck is getting worse the more John struggles against the wall. “Fucker’s got their minds all twisted up so they’ll do what he says. Got Dirk’s glasses back, so it makes it easier to control him.”

“Control him? Glasses?” Cronus asks. 

“Here’s the crash course, because I’m not shitting you when I say we don’t have time for this, but those things in your pocket are apparently what’s keeping me stuck in blood lovers limbo. Same with Dirk’s. For this fucker,” Dave adds as he jerks his hand back towards John. “It’s that knife in his wrist, and Jake’s are a pair of reading glasses.” Cronus nods without really understanding what he’s being told. “So you get Dirk’s or even Jake’s, and you’ve got more of a chance of getting out of here.”

“Uh uhp a,” John yells from the wall. Dave doesn’t pay him any mind.

“But enough trying to figure out the too spooky shit of the afterlife. You need to get your brother out of here.” Dave’s voice is starting to sound thicker, like he’s talking with water in his throat. “He’s on the other side of the house. Get him away from Jake, don’t let the fucker get in your head. Just grab Eridan, and go. Dirk’ll try and stop you, but if you can get his glasses again, then maybe he’ll wake up.”

“Maybe?” Cronus cuts in. “I’m goin off a maybe here?”

“Hey, it’s the best you’ve got,” Dave snarls, and blood bubbles up behind his lips before he lets out a cough. Something splatters on the floor. “Now get going, I can’t hold him much longer while I’m yapping at ya.” Dave turns his back on Cronus, and goes back over to John. “Now where were we, _honey_.”

Cronus turns away before he can see what Dave does to make John cry out. He snatches up his camera next to the door, and pushes out into the hallway. The light fills the dark space as the door behind him slams shut without his prompting. There are a few muffled words, but that’s all he can make out as he stumbles into the main hall. He’s on his own.

With shaking hands, Cronus lifts the camera and pans the light over the hallway. He hears a sound that doesn’t come from the room behind him, and swallows. Cronus lifts his hand up and shuts off the light. With the press of a button he is looking through the camera in night mode, the light a dead give away. He has a feeling that he’s going to need to be able to sneak about.

“I’m coming, Eridan,” he says as he starts down the hall. “Just don’t be dead.” The cry that meets his ears makes him both hopeful, and scared of what he might find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I hope I can get the next chapter up soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not dead. I just moved, got another cat, was gone for over ten days, and a whole slew of other crap. Still, I hope you enjoy the chapter. A thanks to Blooperboy who helped with betaing this chapter. Also, sometimes italics don't transfer, so if you see something with single quotation marks ' ' and it isn't italicized, know that it should be and if you point it out (or any other issues) I would be more than happy to get those fixed.

Eridan is in bliss; pure, blank, unfeeling bliss. His head lolls to the side, his eyes are half closed, and Jake is leaving bites along his shoulders. The sweater he had been so proud of buying lays with his scarf crumpled on the floor, his jeans are unbuttoned, and his cock is heavy in Dirk’s hands. Cronus never wanted to know just how long or hard his brother could get, but through the HD night vision display of his camera, he knows just how big he is. He also knows that the person laying in the arms of the two dead men is not his brother. There is no way Eridan would just lay there, sighing each time Jake slides his teeth into his skin. The guy bitches about how bad a hangnail hurts, or knocking his hip against the side table in the front hall. There is no way he would enjoy what Jake is doing while in his right mind. 

Cronus feels rage settle somewhere in his stomach while fear laces the rest of him. His brother has always been strong willed, outspoken, and harsh. At least, with him, and those he didn’t like. This isn’t his brother, this is a shell. 

With a steadying breath, Cronus looks over their shoulders, trying to think passed the groans and pants that are making their way to his ears. There is nothing to them, just vibrations and vocal cords. They keep Jake occupied, and that’s good at least, because it takes Cronus a moment to figure out where his targets are. 

“There you are,” he murmurs when he sees the glasses. All three pairs are laying in a jumble on the side table, their legs as tangled as the boys on the bed. One pointy, two round, and it’s easy to tell who's is who’s from the shape of Eridan’s frames and Jake’s. 

“Were you looking for us?” 

Cronus jumps when he realizes that Jake is no longer looking at Eridan, but at him. As he stands frozen, he feels tendrils of something start poking at his brain. That’s not good, he doesn’t want that. Jake gets in there and it’s all over.

“Yeah,” comes out easier than he thought it would as his brain spins its wheels and tries to catch on something. “See, uh,” there is a loud bang from the other side of the house, and a long groan. His wheels catch. “I was havin fun with those two crazy bastards next door, but they got a little, well, distracted. Felt like a third wheel.” Cronus walks a little further into the room, his camera focussed on them. Eridan hasn’t moved. “So I came looking for you guys, thought maybe I could even out your numbers a bit, or get a bit of a show.” He pats the camera, and Jake’s eyes go wide in frame. He pulls back from Eridan, which makes Cronus feel a bit better, at least a little, though Dirk’s hand doesn’t move away from his brother's dick. God he wants to cut them right off of Dirk’s wrists, but instead he does a slow pan from the tips of Jake’s feet, over Eridan’s body, and ends on Dirk’s face.

“Really now.” There is a purr in Jake’s voice as he shifts to lean in towards Eridan, though his eyes stay glued to Cronus. His tongue ghosts a line up Eridan’s neck, and Cronus forces himself to lick his own lips. “Looks like John and I aren’t the only ones who like to keep it in the family,” Jake chuckles. “Though I haven’t found anything about you in this head of his.”

Cronus gives a little snort. “Course not, it’s hard enough keeping one night stands a secret this day and age,” he says as sick thoughts and ideas fill his head to explain this away. He really hopes that Eridan can’t hear him, because if he does, then god that is going to be one awkward conversation later. He prays that they get a later. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t gotten myself an eyeful whenever possible.” He pats the camera on his shoulder. “I’ve got one or two cams stashed around his apartment. He likes to make the nicest little groans when you push your tongue behind his ear.” The only reason he knows that is due to one very uncomfortable night when Cronus had walked in on a very intense make out session. That, and the next day he had proceeded to tease Eridan about the hack make up job he had tried to do behind his ear to cover up the hickey.

“Really now?” Jake asks before he looks at Dirk. Nothing is said, but the blonde goes to suck at the spot. Eridan makes another blank, though intense, sound of pleasure. 

Jake grins and turns back to Cronus. “Do tell me more,” he says, and motions for him to come to them. “Give us a close up of what makes him writhe.” 

Cronus feels like he’s going to puke. “His hips are sensitive,” Cronus tells Jake as he comes closer, pointing the camera at his brother's cock. It makes him feel queasy to watch Dirk stroke him, the slightest sheen of precum glistening in the greenish glow of the night vision. “From what I’ve seen, he bruises pretty easy there.”

“Oh, well then.” Jake looks at Dirk, and Dirk leans back, pulling Eridan with him so that he is reclining. Cronus watches, doing the best to keep the camera steady while his hands want to tremble. The only person who should be touching his brother like that is someone who loves him, not these fuckers.

“What’cha gonna do?” Cronus asks, and his voice isn’t breathy because he’s turned on as he walks around the bed, panning over them. At this point it’s just to make sure that they think that he’s still recording, he’s barely looking through the lens anymore. Cronus’ eyes are focussed on the glasses.

“Getting a better angle,” Jake replies as he shimmies backwards a bit so that he can half lay between Eridan’s legs. Cronus swallows back bile as Eridan lifts his hips so that Jake can pull them down.

“What a good boy,” Jake says out loud. “Don’t even have to ask you anymore.” He grins as he says it before turning to Cronus. He’s made a half circle around them, moving towards the side table while keeping the camera on them. They are closer on this side of the bed, and he can see Dirk better. His face is as blank as Eridan’s, his hands mechanical as Eridan’s moans are empty. He’s covered in as many bites as Eridan.

“Make some noise for your brother,” Jake murmurs into Eridan’s hip, and Cronus closes his eyes as he watches Jake’s teeth sink into his brother’s hip. 

“Cronus.” Eridan’s voice is high and breathy, laced with pleasure, and his eyes are half lidded as he looks at Cronus. Cronus freezes, his pulse shooting up as Jake sucks and laps at Eridan’s hip, and Eridan looks at him. “Cronus, please.” He reaches out, and Cronus feels his heart push hard. That isn’t his brother, can’t be. “Kiss me.” He wants to wretch. 

“Come on, give him a kiss,” Jake says against the slightly bleeding hip. Cronus can feel the fingers starting in his brain. He can’t let Jake do that, he has to keep him out of there. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he replies. His voice shakes a little, but he hopes that it sounds like he’s excited. He’s not though, not in the slightest, and he doesn’t want to do this. If he doesn’t though, then Jake will know, and then he isn’t sure what he could do, if anything. He’s got to keep his wits about him, he loses those, and he’ll be doing a lot more than open mouth kissing his brother. He tastes bile.

Cronus goes to set the camera down, next to the glasses, but Jake reaches out and grabs his shoulder. It makes Cronus freeze. The hands are cold even through his clothing. 

“Give it here,” Jake says. “Let me help you make some memories.” 

Cronus gives his best acting smile and hands it over. Shit, now he can’t see a fucking thing. “Yeah, sounds good to me.” No it doesn’t.

Cronus climbs up onto the bed, Dirk supporting Eridan while Jake backs up to shoot them with the camera. “I don’t have to press anything do I?” he asks. 

“Nope,” Cronus says as he looks between the shadow that is his brother and Dirk, and the glasses only a foot or so away. “Not at all. Though, maybe you should go for a wide shot,” he tells him as he straddles Eridan. He feels his gag reflex fighting the smile on his face. 

“What does that mean?” Jake asks as he moves, the camera moving in front of Cronus, he can just barely see it in the room. The light in here is shit, nothing like in John’s room. Jake is keeping it dark, making the only senses come from sound and touch. Really, he’s thankful for it, because now he doesn’t have to see his brother as he feels his breath on his cheek. 

“Move back further, pan over us,” Cronus replies. 

The little light on the camera moves, as if Jake is nodding. “Alright,” he replies. “But first, how about a, oh what do you call them. A close up?” The little light comes closer, and Cronus swallows.

“Okay,” Cronus replies. “Sounds good.”

“Cronus,” he hears in his ear, and a tongue is added to it. It makes him shudder and want to pull away. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” he replies and turns his head. The mouth is waiting for him in the dark. Eridan’s mouth tastes like blood and the candy bars he had been stress eating on his way up, the same ones Cronus got him hooked on when they were just kids. He can’t do this, fuck he can’t do this.

“Don’t let the jitters take you now,” Jake murmurs low and lustful. 

He has to. Cronus closes his eyes, and leans forwards. Eridan’s mouth moves as if he had been rehearsing for a porno. His tongue glides over Cronus’s lips as he pants against his mouth, his hands comes up to grab Cronus’s hips weakly, and Cronus has to keep telling himself that it’s not him. This is Jake in his head, in Dirk’s head, and if he doesn’t get those glasses, he’ll be in his head. 

There is a creaking noise as Jake gets up off the bed, and Cronus pulls back. He can’t kiss him anymore, but if he doesn’t put on this show then he’ll be doing a lot more than kissing soon. Cronus’ fingers slide up into Eridan’s hair, right at the base, and he pushes his mouth next to his brother's ear. He can see the barest outline of the glasses when he does this, and Jake can’t see his face.

“I knew you were a little slut,” he says, and it makes his heart twist at the sound Eridan makes. “Knew you wanted this too. Just like you’ve wanted every single prick in your office. I know you’ve been sucking people off in the coffee room.” That had only happened once, to his knowledge, and it felt wrong to use something he would use for jokes in such an intimate and fucked up way. It makes it worse when Eridan gives out a moan that can only be described as wonton. He is able to push Eridan down a little, Dirk laying back with him. It puts Cronus closer to the table. He can reach them now. All he has to do is reach and then he can-

“Do you want him to suck yours, Cronus?” he hears behind him. His head jerks back. “You can have him do that now, you know.” The light of the camera is further away from them, almost to what Cronus thinks is the wall in the dark.

“Yeah?” Cronus asks as he sits up, acting like he’s going to go sit against the headboard, get comfortable. He puts his hand on the side table, as if steadying himself. He can feel the point of one of the shades they had found against his hand. 

_‘Dirk, Dirk if you can hear me wake up man,’_ he says in his head. Next to him Dirk stirs a little, shifting in the sheets. _‘Dave is fighting in the other room, but he needs you. Your little brother needs you, just like mine needs me.’_

“Dirk, did I tell you to stop?” Jake says from across the room.

Cronus’ heart speeds up. “Eridan does need to move if he’s going to get between these legs,” Cronus says as he pats one of his thighs with one hand and wraps his pinky of his other hand around the shades. Dirk shifts again.

 _‘Come on, Dirk,’_ Cronus continues. _‘Fucking...make Eridan moan if you can hear me.’_ He hates to say it, but it’s the only thing he can think of. He can’t alert Jake, he’s lucky he’s gotten this far. A second later, Eridan groans.

“Good boy, Dirk,” Jake says. “Now help him get to his brother.” 

_‘On the count of three, I need you to rush him, okay.’_ Cronus shifts and smiles. “Yeah, Dirk, help me out.” 

_‘One,’_ he starts as he hears and sees the dark silhouettes of Dirk and Eridan next to him shifting. _‘Two.’_ This had better work. This had better work. Eridan is getting onto his knees, Dirk moving to help him.

“Dirk, move a little, you’re in the shot as they say,” Jake says, his voice gleeful.

“Three,” Cronus breathes. Fire, warm and hot erupts in the fireplace, and Cronus barely gets a look of Dirk as he launches himself at Jake. Cronus grabs at the glasses at the same time. The screech let out behind him makes Cronus' teeth ache.

“Cronus?” Eridan’s voice is groggy, and his eyes are slitted against the intense light.

“Here,” Cronus says and shoves Eridan’s glasses at him. “Button up, we’ve gotta go.” He rolls off the bed, shoving the pointed shades into the pocket that holds Dave’s, and Jake’s go into the other. On the bed he sees Eridan’s confused face as he looks down and quickly covers himself.

“The fuck is happening?” he asks as he looks over his shoulder. The image of Dirk and Jake wrestling against the wall makes Eridan bolt off the bed to stand next to Cronus. 

“The fuck is going on,” Eridan asks as he stands bare chested and clinging to his brother. The fire behind them rages, lighting on Eridan’s abnormally pale skin. He waivers on his feet, and Cronus has to grab him to keep him from going down.

There is a crash, and Cronus looks up. “Go!” Dirk calls as he pins Jake to the wall. “Run, get out of here.” Easier said than done. They are too close to the door. Jake could just reach out and grab them while they run past.

“Oh, Dirk, do you really want them to?” Jake replies, his voice tight from the hand around his throat. 

Cronus can feel something fighting to get into his skull, but he refuses to listen as he grabs Eridan’s hand and pulls him away from the bed and towards the center of the room. Eridan keeps his head down, chest heaving as his body feels the pain from the multitude of bites on his body. None of them are really bleeding. The holes have only the slightest rims of red, and only one or two have small trickles of blood escaping. That can’t be good.

“You were giving him such pleasure. The sounds he was making, the way he moved under your ha-” The hand tightens.

“Shut up,” Dirk grits out. “Shut up. I won’t let you do that again I wo-”

“Oh, but you know you will,” Jake replies as his hands come up to Dirk’s wrists and caress them. “You do every time.” 

The hand around Jake’s throat falters, Dirk’s shoulders shake, and the drilling feeling in Crous’s head subsides as Dirk starts to shake his.

“See,” Jake says. “You don’t want to hurt me, you want to please me. Just like how you want to help me please these two boys.” His words are calm, sweet, and Dirk starts to lower him to the floor.

Dirk’s hand twitches, trying to tighten as Dirk shakes. The hold on Jake against the wall continues to falter. Cronus’ gears spin fast. “Don’t do it, Dirk,” he calls. “If you do, then who’s going to help Dave?” Dirk stops lowering Jake, and Jake glares. “This fucker is the reason he’s dead, that you’re dead. He kept you from protecting him,” Cronus continues.

“What are you doing?” Eridan hisses. 

“Talking to another big brother,” Cronus replies louder. “Because that’s what you are, right? A big brother, and what do we big brothers do?”

“Qui-” Jake tries as the pain in Cronus’ skull starts again, but Dirk’s fingers cut him off. He’s not shaking as badly.

“We protect them,” Dirk replies, his voice strained.

“Exactly,” Cronus says as he helps Eridan around the bed and towards the door. “Now do your fucking job and I’ll do mine.” Dirk looks over his shoulder at him. “Don’t let him touch my brother again,” Cronus says, a plea in his tone. “Don’t let him make us do that shit again.” 

Dirk nods, his eyes bright like the flames growing in the grate behind them. “I’ve got hi-”

Dirk, Eridan, and Cronus all flinch as words fill their heads. _‘You can’t leave you pathetic sacks of flesh. We won’t let you, we own you, and you know it. You’ve known it since you entered this house, our house, and we wo-’_ Cronus squeezes the glasses in his pocket, hard, and Jake visibly winced as his voice cuts out.

“Kick his ass man,” Cronus says as he gets them closer. He squeezes the glasses again, and Jake seems to crumple against the wall.

“My pleasure,” Dirk grunts, and Jake sails across the room, over the bed, and back towards the flames. 

Cronus and Eridan don’t see him hit as Cronus almost drags Eridan out the door, his brother trying to keep up on blood-lost legs. They hear him though, screaming and howling as they go down the hall. Eridan clings to Cronus as they get to the stairs. Light filters up from downstairs, harsh and bright.

“Cronus!” they hear shrieked from the other end of the house. They duck as a picture flies at them from the other side of the hall, harsh cries and screams of pain coming from the other end. John appears for only a moment, bloody and battered, his skin split so much he might as well not have any. He reaches for the two, Cronus stumbling to keep him and Eridan up as they back up. Then Dave is there, fist connecting with John’s face and sending the bloody horror flying down the stairs. He doesn’t look much better, his throat a gaping wound with his body covered in scratches and bites, his shirt torn to reveal bloody gouges.

“Here,” he says as he shoves a knife into Cronus’s hands as he hovers for just a moment. Cronus realizes it is the hunting knife from the bedroom before Dave gives him a red and pink toothed grin. “Thanks.” Cronus feels the muscles in his neck cramp when he tries to follow Dave’s quick moments to stop John as the sadistic brother races back up towards them.

“Cronus,” Eridan wheezes as they hit the wall in front of them, denting the wood wall as John’s mouth tears into Dave’s throat. Cronus shakily starts moving, holding the knife as he helps his brother down the stairs. Debris flies around their heads, sending them stumbling and jerking downward with Cronus fighting to keep them up. They fall at one point, right near the bottom, and hit hard, Cronus landing on his back to catch Eridan, one hand on the knife and the other holding his brother. It takes them a moment to scramble up, Eridan clawing at Cronus to get back to his feet. The door is so close, then all they have to do is get out into the forest, head to the car and-

“Fuck,” he grunts as he tugs Eridan instead towards the living room.

“What are you doing?” he asks in panicked confusion as they enter into the room. The light is coming from the large fire burning in the fireplace, the flames dancing with the thudding coming from upstairs. There doesn’t even seem to be kindling in the fire.

“I need the keys,” Cronus replies as he darts away from Eridan for a moment to get into his camera bag. He drops the knife so that he hands can dig around inside it. Where are they, where are they? 

“Front pocket,” Eridan calls weakly. Cronus chances a glance. He really isn’t looking good. With quick hands he opens the front pocket before he feels the tendrils in his head.

_‘Oh Cronus, you really think you’re getting out of here?’_

_‘Go!’_ quickly follows. _‘I-I can’t do this much longer.’_

“I’ve got you man.” Cronus’s hand darts to his pocket and finds...nothing. Cronus jerks to look behind him, eyes searching. Where are they, where are they? 

“Eridan,” he yells. “The glasses, where are the glasses?” 

“Glasses?” Eridan asks in confusing. He looks around the room, eyes darting with Cronus. He spots them just as Cronus does. John and Dave hit a few feet away from them. John is on top, his teeth bared as his hand slides up inside Dave’s chest. Cronus grips hard at the knife, but nothing happens. 

_‘Can’t hurt a knife can you?’_ Jake laughs in his head, and Cronus throws it hard against the floor, the point sticking. John doesn’t even react.

“Get the glasses,” Eridan says as he stumbles up. 

“Wha-”

“Do it!” Cronus yells as he charges past him, shoulder low. Eridan moves as he passes him, stumbling behind him to do as his brother says. Cronus’ shoulder connects with John, knocking him away as Eridan stumbles, dodging more debris as he grabs the frames. 

“Still want to play?” Cronus hears as he ends up sprawling on top of the other. Fangs sink into Cronus’ shoulder, through the leather of his jacket. He lets out a howl before he is yanked up and thrown back. He slides over the wood before hitting the doorframe to the living room. Dave has taken his place on top of John, punching and fighting.

“Cronus,” Eridan says as he runs to him. One hand holds the glasses as the other hovers over him. “What do I do?” he asks, and there are tears on his face, his nose running. “Cronus, what do I do?” 

Cronus can’t think, the pain in his shoulder harsh. The skin is torn from the fangs having been torn from his body. His eyes dart around. Dave is losing, upstairs the thudding is coming to an end and the fire in the fireplace is starting to dwindle. 

Fire. “Burn them,” he says through gritted teeth. “Eridan, burn ‘em.”

Eridan gives a little sob, a shake of his head, and then lurches for the fireplace. Cronus watches his pale, shirtless, bitten brother stumble as the couch slides to block him. Then the table, a pillow, pictures. Cronus bats his own share of debris from hitting him as he sits against the wall. 

_‘You don’t want to do that,’_ they both hear. 

Eridan looks at Cronus with wide eyes. Cronus nods. The glasses go into the fire. 

Upstairs there is a scream.

The scuffle next to them stops immediately. Cronus looks over to find John with his hand deep in Dave’s chest, his eyes looking upwards. “Jake,” he says softly. The screaming continues. “Jake!” The fire flares. John disappears as Dave gets up. 

“Move,” Dave wheezes, his words directed at Eridan. The younger Ampora does as he is told, and hot winds shoots past them. Eridan comes back to Cronus as Dave dives into the flames, and they explode outwards with a hot wind that flies through the house. Flames lick after it, singeing them as it passes. 

“We’ve got to go,” Eridan pants as he helps his brother up this time. 

“No, we’ve got one more,” he says as they get to their feet. Blood is racing down his shoulder in rivulets, but he ignores it as he moves towards the fire.

“What are you talking about?” Eridan pants as they lean on each other. Cronus walks with him to the camera bag and picks up the hunting knife. It takes a moment to jerk the point out of the wood, wrenching up splinters as it pops free.

“You want to know how you hurt a knife, Jake?” he says instead as he holds it in his hand. There are more screams upstairs “You fucking melt it.” Cronus looks at the fire. ‘Heat it up, Dirk,’ he says in his mind, and watches at the flames turn almost white in response. 

“No one fucking touches my brother,” he grunts before chucking the knife into the flames. A second screams joins the first.

The scene that unfolds sends the brothers stumbling back. Jake appears first, writhing and screaming, the core of his body ablaze. He is blind, both of his eyes consumed by hot fire as it pours from his head and mouth. He stumbles towards the fire. Dirk meets him, and the fist that connects with his face explodes with flames.

“NO!” the shout is loud and high as John appears, his body singed, but so far still in tact. The knife is taking longer to burn. He charges Dirk, who stands his ground. The wind takes John before he even reaches the fire ringed Strider. 

“Your dance is with me, remember,” is barely heard as the crackling of flames surrounds them. With each movement Dave spreads them, pulling them around the house as Dirk stands white and burning before the fireplace, the flames becoming impossibly hot.

 _‘You have to go,’_ Dirk says calmly in their heads as Eridan and Cronus back out of the room, the heat too intense for them to stay, but they are unable to look away. _‘You have to get out of here. We’re going to turn this place to ash.’_

“And you two?” It comes from Cronus’ mouth as they get into the kitchen, the flames already spreading through the old cabinets and curtains. 

The two of them hear Dave’s smile more than see it. “We’re going to drag these fuckers striaght to hell.” It fills their ears as wind flies by them, spreading the fire as the screams continue in the livingroom. The kitchen door blows open, and Cronus has to cover his face as the fire flares at the new oxygen. 

“Now get your asses out of here, we’ve got this,” Dave says as the wind pushes them through the door. “These fuckers don’t have any power anymore.”

 _‘We’re the kings of this shit hole now,’_ Dirk adds, filled with bitter humor.

They stumble down the porch stairs and into the slush and freezing mud, Eridan going to his knees before Cronus tugs him up. 

“And kings always burn with the castle,” Dave whoops. They both watch on in morbid fascination as the upper windows blow out, the wind grabbing the glass before it can hit them.

“I don’t think you quoted that right!” Cronus yells. His eyes are burning from the heat as he stumbles away with Eridan tight against him. He tries to joke with it, but his voice is tight.

“Who the fuck's quoting?” Dave laughs back. More windows blow, and another laugh chimes in. It is full of mirth, different than anything that John and Jake ever had. It covers up the dying screams from inside. Cronus and Eridan pause, and listen as the laughter merges with the sound of splintering glass and burning wood. 

“Let’s go,” Cronus finally says as the upper window to the small tower collapses, the sound of it joined with whoops of laughter, the screams almost nonexistent. 

“Yeah,” Eridan replies, as they finally turn away. On shaking legs they enter the forest, Cronus wrapping his little brother in his jacket, blood soaked though it is.

“Hey Cronus?” he asks as they leave the light of the burning house. 

“What?” he’s panting a little. God damn it his shoulder hurts.

“Did you get the camera?” 

Cronus stops dead, causing Eridan to stop as well. 

“We almost die and you’re wondering about a fucking camera?” Cronus asks as they stand in the trees. 

There is just enough light for Cronus to see Eridan smile at him. “Nope,” he replies as he starts walking again, pulling Cronus with him. “Just making sure that shit dies with those fuckers.”

“And your story?” Cronus asks with his own smile.

“I’ll think of something,” Eridan replies. 

“Yeah,” Cronus says as they walk. “I’m sure you will.” They don’t talk for the rest of their walk. Instead, they just follow the warm wind pointing them south. Pointing them home.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a pain to get into the apartment. The two of them had tried multiple times to get permission, but it had been denied each time, so they had taken matters into their own hands.

“Hurry up,” Cronus murmurs as Eridan unlocks the door with the key they had snagged from the office.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Eridan replies. The marks on his neck are healed, though there are still scars. When they were questioned at the hospital, Eridan had created probably the best half truth the two of them could have come up with. 

There had been two men living in the house, had been for years, living in a secret space in the attic and ‘feeding’ off of those who came into the house. They were under the demented impression that they were the ones who killed the two cousins all those years ago. Both of their minds were warped and twisted, filled with the horrible idea that they had been alive for almost 100 years, feeding off of those who came to the house.

When the two brothers, Dirk and Dave, had gone into the house, they fed the men’s dementia, which lead to them harming and ‘feeding’ on the Strider. One of them had told Eridan all about it when he had separated him from Cronus in the house. During the assault, he also told him how they followed the Striders back to Texas to finish their work. They had killed the brothers, making it look like they had killed one another, just like the original murder that ‘they’ had done to John and Jake. 

Cronus was the one who set the fire, creating a distraction that got them out, but not before the second man had torn into his shoulder and Cronus had broken the camera beating the guy off of him. They told them that they had burned in the house, Cronus having knocked them out with the heavy piece of equipment before escaping from the fire he had set.

Their proof? Two pairs of sunglasses that he had taken from the Strider’s apartment the night he had killed them with two sets of unknown fingerprints. That, and a camera that had been melted almost beyond recognition. The bodies were not found.

“There,” Eridan says as he finally gets the door open, and they slip inside. The apartment is mostly bare. Anything worth any sort of value having been sold as compensation for the landlord, and all personal effects had been taken by their cousins, the Lalonde’s. No one is going to be renting the thing anytime soon, not with how popular the story is. All that is left is an old futon, some scraps of cloth here and there, and random amounts of trash. 

“Think they left the beds?” Cronus asks as he closes the door behind him. 

“I think they trashed them,” Eridan replies. “Don’t think they could sell anything that blood stained.”

 

Cronus nods. “Yeah.” They both stand in the room, watching dust motes come through the shaded windows. In the silence, Cronus pulls two pairs of sunglasses out of his pocket. One is cracked, the other still stained with blood. It had been a bitch to get them out of impound, but with no other evidence than the fingerprints, and Cronus having a little dirt on one of the men on the force, they had gotten them back. 

“Where should we put them?” he asks as he hands Eridan one of them. 

Eridan looks at the futon. “Looks like the most comfortable place to rest in here,” he says.

“Yeah,” Cronus replies as he walks over with his little brother. “It does.” 

They set both pairs down, both facing the wall, both right next to each other. 

“Sorry for thinking you two were, well, together,” Eridan says as they look at the shades. “I mean, I already retracted it, but still, I’m sorry.” He gives a sniff and drags a hand under his nose. “And, you know...thanks.” 

“Thanks a lot you two,” Cronus adds as he squeezes Eridan’s shoulder. “You got us home. So we figured that getting you home was the least we could do.” 

They both lapse into silence again as they look at the black glass of the shades. “Come on,” Eridan finally says as he turns away and towards the door. “Their going to miss that key soon.”

Cronus nods in acknowledgement and goes to follow him.

 _‘Keep him safe.’_ The words shoot up his spine and he freezes for a moment.

“Cronus?” Eridan asks as he turns at the door. “We’ve got to go.” 

Cronus turns and looks back at the futon. Both of the glasses sit at a slight angle facing the door. “You too.”

“You too what?” Eridan asks as Cronus walks out of the room with a smile.

“Nothin’, Cheif,” he replies as he walks past his brother and tussles his hair. “Now, what do you say we go do some electronics shoppin?”

Dave snorts as the Ampora brothers lock the door, Eridan making some sort of odd snorting sound in response to Cronus’ question. “And to think those two idiots outlived us,” he says as he throws an arm over the back of the couch.

“Hey, they had some help,” Dirk replies as he lounges back against the armrest. They sit in silence as they listen to the two boys disappear down the hall.

“Are you ready?” Dirk asks when they can’t hear them anymore. 

Dave is silent for a minute. He looks around the room, disappears for a moment in a burst of warm wind. Dirk listens to Dave open and shut doors as he sits with his eyes closed. “Looks like Rose and Roxy were pretty thorough,” Dave says when he sits back down.

“Did you expect anything else?” Dirk asks. 

“No, guess not.” They sit in silence again. “Think we could see them again before-”

“They aren’t coming back here, Dave, you know that,” Dirk cuts in. 

Dave wrings his hands and sighs. “Yeah,” he says as he scratches at the thin line on his throat. “I know.” 

Dirk reaches out and takes Dave’s hand. “Hey,” he says. “I’m not going without ya. You want to stay, we stay.”

The younger Strider says nothing for a moment, but he does squeeze back. “You really think it’ll work?” he asks.

“Trust me, Dave,” Dirk replies as he looks at his brother's face. “No matter what happens, I’m not going to fuck up this time. I’m going to do my job.” 

Dave smiles at him; sad, sweet, and simple. “I know, Dirk,” he tells him as Dirk’s hand heats up between his fingers. “I know.”

\----

**Houston Texas Police Department**

**7/19**

**Case 1453b: CLOSED**

**Prepared by: Pyrope, Terezi**

**Incident Description:**

As of today, Eridan Ampora and his brother, Cronus Ampora, are found not guilty in the case of the fire started in the suit apartment of the High Rise Apartment complex. The apartment once belonged to the Strider brothers, who the two proved murdered back in March after being assaulted by their murderers out in the Colorado Rockies. 

The only evidence that pointed to the Ampora’s starting the fire came from the surveillance tape of them entering and leaving the building on 4/13, the same day as the fire in the apartment complex, and the fact that Cronus admitted to starting the fire that burnt down Lodge Alternia in Colorado. The fire was noticed over an hour after they had left when a neighbor said that they heard sounds of life coming from the upper apartment, long after the Ampora’s were gone. When questioned, the Ampora brothers stated that they had gone to pay their last respects, nothing more, and that they had no reason to start the fire. 

After investigation of the apartment, and the brothers, it was deemed that they were indeed telling the truth, though the source of the fire is still unknown. The lack of any accelerant leads forensics to believe that the fire may have come from faulty wiring in the apartment, caused by the removal of a ceiling light. In theory, they believe that a spark made it to the futon below, and started the fire. While the flames were intense, and nothing survived the fire but a few charred pieces of wood and some melted metal, it did not spread by some miracle. The landlord is not planning on fixing the apartment, and it has been condemned and sealed off.

The claims that there were people in the apartment at the time have since been deemed improbable, and that the neighbor who heard the sound of ‘doors opening and closing’ followed by ‘laughter’ and what he called ‘happy sobbing’ was mistaken and most likely hearing sounds from another apartment. Being the only apartment below the suit, there were no other witnesses to the noise.

As to the rumblings that it was something supernatural that started the fire, a psychic named Aradia Medigo was brought in to stop such rumors. She made it very clear that there was no longer any presence in the apartment. She would not elaborate.

The case is being ruled as an accident, and all charges will be dropped. The apartment is to stay sealed, and the apartment complex is having it’s wiring tested to prevent further accidents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, they leave behind only memories and rust.
> 
> Thanks for reading guys. I hope you enjoyed it, and that your questions were answered, at least, for the most part.


End file.
